Slip Sliding Away
by emergencyfan
Summary: Engine 51 is caught in a mudslide.


_Don't own 'em, didn't create 'em. Glad someone did!_

_This was part of a challenge, though it escapes what the actual challenge was, LOL_

_This takes place when the engine was still an open-cab Crown._

It had been pouring rain the day before and all through the night. Flash flood warnings had been in effect since nine p.m. the previous night. The engine and squad were already on their way to their second TA before breakfast.

The visibility was almost nil. The marine layer was as thick as pea soup. Stoker squinted through the windshield as he forced as much speed as possible out of the heavy rig.

"It's the next right, Mike," Captain Stanley advised. He had been glaring out the window searching for familiar landmarks. The view was so obscured by fog that everything took on an alien; almost surreal appearance.

Stoker slowed and made the turn but suddenly a cold hand grabbed his gut and wouldn't let go. Everything started happening in slow motion. He tried to slam his foot onto the brake but it did no good at all. Where the road should have been, _was nothing but air._

Roy and Johnny watched in horror as the rig careened off the road and disappeared into the fog-bound ravine.

Roy slammed on the brakes, the squad slid to a stop as he grabbed the radio to inform LA Headquarters. Johnny jumped out and ran the few feet to where the engine disappeared. He could see now that the road had been washed out. He spotted the engine lying on its driver's side, submerged in about three feet of water. Johnny heard Chet shouting and saw him trying to drag Marco back to the road. He plunged in the icy water to help him. Together, they dragged Marco onto dry ground. He wasn't breathing. Johnny quickly checked for a pulse, finding one, he immediately began mouth to mouth.

Roy came running up just as Marco began coughing. Johnny quickly rolled him over to his side as he coughed up muddy water.

"Cap and Mike?" Roy asked Chet.

Chet shook his head, still out of breath. He and Marco were both soaked and shivering.

Roy reached down, grabbing the shoulder of Marco's turnout gear, and helped Johnny pull him the rest of the way out of the water. Then he grabbed Chet's wrist, pulling him up the embankment and out of the water as well. "Are you alright?"

When Chet nodded, Roy slid into the water and began wading toward the cab of the engine.

"Are you sure you're okay Chet?" asked Johnny, still keeping a close eye on Marco.

"Sore, but nothing life-threatening," replied Chet, shaking.

"Think you can get some blankets out of the squad and keep an eye on Marco?" asked Johnny.

"Yeah," replied Chet.

"I'm okay," said Marco wheezing, "Go help the Cap and Mike."

Johnny patted Marco on the back and waded into the water after Roy.

Stanley was standing in the overturned cab. He had braced his feet against the driver's door, his right arm hung useless at his side. In his left hand, he gripped the collar of Mike's turnout, keeping the unconscious engineer's head just above the surface of the water.

"I got him, Cap," said Roy, lifting Mike by the shoulders so that his head was well out of the water. Stanley gratefully released Mike's collar and leaned against the bottom of the seats.

"He's caught," said Roy as Johnny waded up.

Johnny took a deep breath and plunged into the water, feeling along Mike's legs trying to free him. He came back up a few seconds later. "He's pinned under the Engine, Roy. We're going to need help to get him out."

"Alright," said Roy, still holding Mike's head out of the water, "I've got him, why don't you get the Cap outta here."

Stanley didn't want to leave with one of his men still trapped, but he knew his presence would only hinder the rescuers. He put his good hand on Johnny's shoulder to help balance himself as he stepped out of the cab into the water.

Mike groaned and stirred. Then realizing he was in water, he panicked, trying to get his footing.

"Cut it out Mike," said Roy, struggling to hold the thrashing engineer's head above water. "I've got you, I won't let go," he said in a more soothing tone as Mike calmed down.

"What happened," asked Mike, disoriented. He grabbed for a handhold on the engine to help keep himself from going under. "Oh God, I wrecked the engine!"

"The road's washed out, Pal," said Stanley, teeth chattering, "It wasn't your fault."

They could hear approaching sirens in the distance.

"Come on," said Johnny, tugging gently on Stanley's uninjured arm, "You need to get out of the water."

"Calvary's coming Pal, hang in there," said Stanley to Mike. Then reluctantly followed Johnny back to the road.

Chet and Johnny helped Stanley up the embankment. Marco was sitting up nearby, wrapped in a blanket. Johnny handed two more blankets to Stanley and Chet just as Engine 115 arrived.

Captain Erickson jumped out of the engine. "Jesus Christ Hank!" he exclaimed when he saw 51's Engine. "What's everyone's status," he asked Johnny.

"Everyone's out except our engineer, Mike Stoker. His legs are caught under the engine. My partner, Roy, is with him now. You're going to need jacks for sure," answered Johnny.

"On the double men," said Erickson to his crew. They began pulling jacks and prybars off their engine, and wading toward the wreck. "Hold it," he said as Johnny was about to wade back into the water. "I'm no paramedic but I can see that you're turning blue! We've got enough men. You've got people here that need you," he said, staring pointedly at Stanley's arm. "Don't worry, we'll get him out," he told Stanley before he, too, plunged into the murky liquid.

Johnny noticed that someone had brought the supplies from the squad and left them stacked neatly by the roadside. "Let's take a look at your arm," he said to Stanley.

"I think I just dislocated my shoulder," said Stanley, but his attention was on the wrecked engine.

Erickson and his men approached the cab slowly so as not to create waves.

"What have you got?" he asked Roy.

"His legs are pinned, and he's hypothermic," answered the paramedic. "We need to get him out of this water and someplace warm. He may have other injuries. We should put him on a backboard before we move him."

"Okay," said Erickson. "Stevens." He motioned for the fireman to take Roy's place. "Why don't you go set up whatever gear you'll need once we get him free," he told Roy. When Roy hesitated, he added, "He's one of ours too."

Roy met Erickson's eyes for a moment. "Try to keep him talking," was all Roy said, but the look they exchanged spoke fathoms.

Mike had stopped trying to hold himself out of the water, letting Roy, then Stevens support him. At first he had been miserably cold, but now he was feeling almost - comfortable. Even his legs had stopped hurting. It would be so easy to close his eyes, just for a moment, to rest.

"Hey Mike," said Stevens. When Mike opened his eyes he continued, "You know they're going to take this engine out of your paycheck right?"

Mike smiled, "You can't get blood out of a stone." His eyes were so heavy. He would close them, just for a minute.

Roy returned with the backboard and took over for Stevens.

"Mike, man, stay with me," said Roy.

Mike opened his eyes again. "What about Chet and Marco?"

"They're okay," Roy assured him.

"Two minutes, DeSoto" said Erickson.

"Not much longer Mike, hang in there," said Roy, encouragingly.

Every time Mike blinked his eyes, it was harder and harder to open them again. Roy shifted his position slightly so that another firefighter could find a better position with his prybar. Mike's eyes closed again.

"Come on Mike," said Roy, "Not much longer."

"Roy, I have a confession to make," said Mike, sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"What's that?" asked Roy, not really paying attention to the conversation, just trying to keep Mike talking.

"You know last week, when you went to bed?"

Roy had to think for a minute, then it hit him. "WHAT?" he exclaimed. "You? You short-sheeted my bed? I blamed Chet for that!"

"I know, I'm sorry," said Mike, laughing, which quickly turned into a fit coughing. The coughing stopped finally and Mike took a careful breath. "I'm really sorry," he repeated. "You tell Chet I'm sorry too," he said weakly.

"Don't talk like that Mike," said Roy worriedly, "It won't be much longer."

"Sure," said Mike, but he didn't try to open his eyes this time.

"Get ready," Erickson warned Roy.

The men began jacking and prizing the engine. Roy felt Mike's legs come free.

"That got it!" he said, holding Mike's head above the water with one arm and reaching for the backboard with the other.

It was dark and warm and comfortable. "Mike, " he heard someone call his name, then again, "Mike." He followed the sound of the voice. He began to feel cold, his legs hurt and a bright light hurt his eyes, even closed. Maybe following the voice wasn't such a good idea after all. He tried to return to the warm blackness. "Come on Mike," said the persistent voice, a familiar voice, a woman's voice. Mike wanted the voice to go away. "Michael," said the voice. He hated the name Michael. Ever since he was seven, he made everyone call him Mike. He opened his eyes and saw Dixie.

"See," said Dixie, smiling at Roy who stood beside her. "Just takes a little friendly persuasion."

Roy looked tired but relieved. "How ya doing Mike?" he asked.

"I'm cold and my legs hurt," said Mike, irritably.

"I'm not surprised," said Brackett, approaching the exam table. "You're hypothermic and you broke your legs."

"Both of them?" asked Mike in surprise, craning his head to look towards his legs.

"Lucky for you they were clean breaks, but you're going to be laid up for a while."

"What about the others?" he asked.

"Well, your Captain dislocated his shoulder and Kelly cracked a couple of ribs. We fixed them up and sent them both home on painkillers. Marco is staying here a few days to make sure he doesn't develop pneumonia or other complications."

"You and he can be room-mates," joked Roy.

"That's nice," said Mike as he drifted off to sleep.

"Hey, Mike, welcome back!" said Roy, when Mike entered the kitchen.

The rest of the crew greeted him enthusiastically.

At first, Mike wasn't aware of anything, he was so glad to be back at work. Throughout the day though, he began to notice that everyone was treating him like he was breakable - offering to bring him coffee, helping him with his part of the cleaning, giving him an extra large helping of lasagna at lunch. It made him uncomfortable, but he kept quiet. After all, they were just trying to be helpful. He figured things would return to normal soon. Finally, when they were ready to turn in, he entered the dorm and saw that someone had turned down his bed for him.

"That's enough!" he said, exasperated.

"What's enough?" asked Marco, already in bed.

"You guys are treating me like I'm made out of china or something!" he exclaimed, pointing to the bed.

"Don't get upset, Mike. The guys are just a little worried about you. This being your first day back and all," said Stanley from his bunk.

"Gee Whiz, try to be nice to a guy!" said Chet.

Mike was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry guys. I just want everything to get back to normal okay?"

"That sounds like a reasonable request," said Johnny, taking Mike's side.

"I think Mike's right," said Roy, agreeing with Johnny, "We have been a little overprotective. I promise, Mike, from now on, we'll treat you like nothing ever happened."

The others chimed in agreement.

"Okay, now that we're all agreed, can we get some sleep?" asked the Captain, one hand on his lamp.

"Thanks," said Mike as the Captain put out the light.

Mike grabbed the edge of the sheet and slipped under the covers, only to have it yanked out of his hands as he feet jarred unexpectedly against something.

"Roy?" asked Mike calmly, in the darkness. He could hear muffled chortling throughout the dorm.

"Yes?" asked Roy, innocently.

"Did you short sheet my bed?"


End file.
